White Rose
by Aviator Dark
Summary: 'Roses are red, violets are blue.' The age-old saying is a Valentine barrier for Angel.


**White Rose**

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Angel twisted his wrist in order to look at his watch. The silver surface was reflective and almost made him squint. Twelve in broad daylight, and it was Valentine's day, and Aubrey still wasn't ready yet.

They should have been going to the DCI Headquarters. Then again, they still had plenty of time. Angel didn't know why he was feeling so odd. Maybe it was because it was his birthday? Not that he would mention it to anyone, nor was it that anyone would notice. He doubted that his friends would know. Well, all except for Emilia, that was. She was his childhood friend, after all, and if she told anyone about the day, then word would spread, definitely so. Emilia could easily keep a secret, but Angel had never asked Emilia to keep his birth date discreetly.

If she _did _tell, then Angel didn't know what to expect. Bodie would congratulate him, Emilia would playfully slap his back, Dare and MacCoy would give him quadruple thumbs-up, Taye would bake him a cake and Li'l T would boast about how she did the frosting. Glitch and Mo would decorate, Oblio might come up with some creative remark... and that was about it. Rasa and Lima would probably stay out of it, but Aubrey...

Shouldn't Angel feel odd that he could predict what the other crews would do, but couldn't even guess about his own partner's actions?

He sighed, turning back to look at the door. Somewhere behind it was Aubrey, but he wouldn't be the man to open it just yet. After all, it had been said many, many times before. He was the ace, and she was the queen. It had been hard for him to keep that image without too much of a hassle.

Meaning that, well, Aubrey probably didn't care at all. Why else would she take so long preparing? Easy, chances were that she was too busy with her hair. Or trying to smooth out her clothes. Or finding the right perfume. Or finding a reliable can of hairspray. Or something else...

Could it be something else? No. Angel wasn't convinced at all. If Aubrey was going to take a long time, then he'd let her be. He wouldn't be much of a gentleman if he interrupted her now, would he? It would ruin his entire reputation.

Waiting wasn't exactly something that Angel was good at. Suspicion nagged at him, gnawing at his thoughts, but he shook them away as he watched the clouds race each other slowly. As though hours had passed, his throat felt parched. He decided to go back to his car and get a drink if water, just as the door opened.

In the doorway was Aubrey herself. She was dressed in her usual crew look, but somehow, she looked more beautiful than ever to Angel. With the grace of a swan, with the majesty of a white rose, and as thorny as one, too, but when Angel held a grip on that rose, he would not let go. The white petals may shrivel, but he would nurse the living ones into growth.

Her eyes were filled with soft kindness. Angel's helpless gaze locked with hers and he hesitated, unable to break eye contact. He was restrained like a dog, chained to his master. However, little did he know that he would soon be free of his tight collar.

"Well?" Aubrey inquired, but there was no irritated tone in her voice. In fact, all there was that Angel detected was self-centered uncertainty. He realized that she was talking about herself only by the way she spoke. "You look beautiful, _mi chica. _Don't worry about it."

"No," said Aubrey, and the fingers of her right hand intertwined with Angel's. "I'm not worried about how I look when I get there. I'm worried about how I look in front of you."

"But... Aubrey..." Angel trailed off as he realized what she was trying to tell him. "I had hoped that Emilia wouldn't tell anyone..." he vowed to be careful next time he talked to her. And then his thoughts and mind flickered back to the present. He closed his eyes, calmed, and breathed out, "Thank you." His sight opened up again, as though they were silver-colored gates embroidered with diamonds, opening up to reveal the greatest of beauty.

He looked at his empty hands and then back at her. "I'm sorry I didn't get you anything," Angel confessed. "It's hard to remember two occasions at once."

Aubrey glanced at him. "I forgot to give you my present too," she murmured. Angel, taken aback, stuttered without saying a real word, only mumbles. "But... you look so different... and yet so familiar..."

She had an expectant expression plastered on her face. Angel tried to guess. "New perfume?"

"Nope."

"New clothes?"

"Nu-uh."

"Uh... new hairspray?"

"Not even close."

"Not even contact lenses."

"Cold as ice."

"Then what is it?" Angel asked. He gave up guessing after such a short time, because he actually saw no difference in her. Not on the outside, at least. She looked... normal.

"You really want to know?" Aubrey offered. Angel nodded eagerly, curiosity getting the better of him.

"It's nothing. Nothing at all."

Angel, surprised, stared at her, half gaping. She nodded. "It's true. Did I really look so different?" She turned to face him. Angel replied, "Yes... you did." His hand moved up to her ear, and without asking for her permission, he pushed a red strand back behind her ear.

The other Lu$h dancer almost sneaked in surprise, but she then dipped her head slightly, allowing Angel to twist her hair around his hand. Then she rested her head on his broad neck. Angel buried his face in her soft hair. It was such a new experience for him. One that he had never known before. Somewhere he had Aubrey whisper. "Happy birthday, Ace."

He began to realize why she had used her normal hairspray; he loved it the way it was. He took in a deep breath and smelt it again.

White roses.

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**They always say, 'roses are red,'**

**And that 'violets are blue.'**

**But white roses in the flowerbed,**

**Should be acknowledged too.**

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**This was done in such a hurry, at night... yes. It's night here. Please kindly excuse any repetitions or mistakes, thank you in advance :)**

**Please leave a review if you enjoyed this story. **


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